


don't you be afraid of love and affection [just lay down your weapon]

by goodandsafe



Series: 'hold me tight' verse [5]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Comfort, F/F, POV Carmilla, POV Second Person, hmt!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 08:13:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12526940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodandsafe/pseuds/goodandsafe
Summary: You pull your phone from your pocket and before you can think about it, you call Laura.It only rings twice before she picks up.“Carm?” she asks.“Hi,” you say and to your own ears, your voice sounds weak.“Is everything okay?”“Yeah, mhmm. I just - I’m at Th’ Roof and some guy - it’s just - Will’s dead.”“Carm, are you drunk?”“Very, cupcake. A lot. But ‘m fine.”“You don’t sound fine.”You let silence settle between the two of you before you say, “I wanna come home.”---or, the one where carm just came out to have a good time and is feeling v attacked





	don't you be afraid of love and affection [just lay down your weapon]

**Author's Note:**

> this is set somewhere amidst the sixth chapter of 'hold me tight,' the first fic in this series, and is based upon a prompt from my pal fox which called for a hollstein fic including the quotes "are you drunk?" and "don't call me that!"
> 
> enjoy ily

You’re at The Roof with the usual suspects - Kirsch and the rest of your squadron - when some drunk college idiots start making a ruckus down the bar from you. It disrupts your group’s conversation, but only for a moment. Kirsch recovers quickly and turns to you. **  
**

“So,” he starts with a smile that tells you that you won’t like what follows. “How’s the little nerd?”

“She has a name, you know,” you say, taking a long pull from your drink.

“I know that, but this is more fun for me.”

“Because it’s annoying?”

“Duh,” he shrugs with a grin.

“So how  _is_  she?” Carson asks, steering the conversation back to your ridiculous sham of a marriage.

“Uptight as ever,” you say, before motioning to Brody behind the bar. “Another, and make it a double.”

“I thought you were getting along better,” Kirsch says, leaning back against the bartop.

“We are. That’s the problem.” 

“I’m… confused,” Billy says.

“Yeah,” Reese adds, “how’s that an issue?”

Just then, Brody sets down your drink and a shot.

“On the house,” he tells you, “to survive this mockery of an interrogation.”

You down the shot quickly and chase it with your drink. Your  _very_  strong drink. Brody never disappoints.

Kirsch points to you and says, “See that? That’s Carmilla for” - he puts on a voice that you think is meant to sound like you - “‘ _she’s making me_ feel _things and I’m Carmilla Karnstein and no one makes me feel my own feelings!_ ’”

“Okay, Wilson, that’s enough.”

“Dude,” he says, voice softer. “At our bar? Not  _cool_ , man.”

“Fine - just - let’s drop it.”

Kirsch perks back up. “Chugging contest?”

“Only if you get me the finest German beer this place has to offer.”

/

Too many beers and not enough minutes later, your arm is being raised in victory. You wipe the beer mustache above your lip away with your free arm and let loose a serious belch.

“Karnstein remains the queen!” Brody announces to the small crowd that’s gathered.

“As if there was ever a doubt,” you say, pushing yourself to your feet, wobbling a little as you do. “Whoa.”

You pat Kirsch’s back as he downs the last of his beer before slamming the stein down on the table in front of him.

“Fuuuuuuuuuck, man.”

“Ditto.”

“Obvs, like  _totally_ ,” Kirsch adds in his finest Valley Girl voice.

“Okay, so,” Brody cuts in, “ _he’s_  done for the night.”

/

You, however, are not, so while Kirsch sips some water, you continue drinking - albeit at a much, much slower pace - and you both continue talking and laughing with your friends. The Roof clears out a little but somehow gets louder, but that’s probably because those remaining are too drunk to have volume control.

You head over to the jukebox in the corner to switch the music, as you always do on Fridays around this time, when the college guys from earlier call to you.

“What’s new, pussycat?!”

You turn on your heel, which goes more smoothly than it should considering how many drinks you’ve had tonight.

“Excuse me?”

“Come over and play, kitty,” one of them says and you feel your stomach drop.

Your vision blurs and for a moment - a split second - the dark-haired boy’s face morphs into a more familiar one, a more beloved one: Will’s.

That second passes and you see the face for what it really is: a drunk, belligerent assbag.

“Here, kitty!” he says and you stalk toward him, shoulders drawn up. “Aw, kitty’s on the  _prowl_!”

You reach the bar, grab the idiot by front of his shirt, and say, “Don’t you fucking  _dare_  call me that.”

Just then, you feel strong arms wrap around your waist and then your feet are no longer touching the ground. If you didn’t recognize Kirsch’s cologne, you’d kick and fight, but you let him carry you a few steps back.

“Breathe, Carmilla. Breathe.”

You don’t realize until just that moment that you’d been holding your breath and you exhale sharply. The back of your throat pangs and Will’s voice seems to echo in your head. Kirsch sets you down and you turn to face him.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Whatever, I just - I’m g’nna get some air.”

“Want me to come with?”

You shake your head.

“Thank you, but no. Keep an eye on those fuckers.”

“Roger that.”

Before you know it, you’re in the alley beside The Roof, crouching, back against the cold brick of the building. You’re willing yourself not to cry, but you’ve had a  _lot_  to drink and you just - you miss your brother.

You pull your phone from your pocket and before you can think about it, you call Laura.

It only rings twice before she picks up.

“Carm?” she asks.

“Hi,” you say and to your own ears, your voice sounds weak.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, mhmm. I just - I’m at Th’ Roof and some guy - it’s just - Will’s  _dead_.”

“Carm, are you drunk?”

“Very, cupcake. A lot. But ‘m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

You let silence settle between the two of you before you say, “I wanna come home.”

“So come home.”

“I don’t - well - I can’t ‘member how to get there.”

“Carm,” Laura says with what sounds like a mixture of amusement and sadness. “I’ll be there in ten, alright? Stay put.”

/

You rejoin your friends, if only to tell Kirsch that you’re leaving. They all pretend as if you hadn’t just tried to fight a frat boy and you’re reminded, once more, that you know some of the best people in this city. Laura comes through the door even sooner than you expect and something in your chest settles.

“Hi guys,” she says, bright and sunny as always, regardless of the fact that it’s nearing 1:00am.

“Hey Laura,” the group says, nearly in unison.

She turns to you then and asks, “Ready to head out?” You nod and Laura loops her arm through yours and tugs you gently toward the door. “Have a good night, everyone! Get home safe, please.”

“Will do,” Kirsch says, and you ignore the content grin he shoots your way.

/

Laura leads you back to the loft, arm still looped around yours the entire way, and when you get to her building, she pulls you up the stairs. The two of you reach the third floor, Laura passes it and continues up the stairs. You resist a little in confusion and Laura stop walking.

“Trust me,” she says, nodding toward the stairs. “I know a place.”

You follow Laura, who leads you to a heavy metal door that you find out leads to the roof. She pushes the door open and then holds it for you.

“Thought you could use some fresh air,” she says, shrugging. “Plus, it’s clear out tonight.”

Your throat tightens again and all you manage is a nod before you pass Laura and walk out onto the roof. The cool air hits you and you pull in the first fulfilling breath since you heard the word “kitty.” You walk out to the center of the roof and you don’t feel Laura follow. She’s right, though, and it’s clear enough to see the night stars, even with the lights of the city shining bright.

You sit down, cross-legged, eyes trained on the sky, focusing on your breathing. Laura joins you then, mirroring your position, her right knee resting on your left. The contact shifts your gaze from the sky to Laura and she’s unfolding a blanket.

“Where did you magic that from?”

Laura nods to her left and says, “Storage closet, for just such an occasion,” as she wraps the blanket around the both of you.

“Thanks,” you say, voice soft.

“Wouldn’t want you freezing to death up here.”

“No, I mean - for coming to get me, but also this - thank you.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

You look back up to the sky and start counting stars. You feel yourself gaining a bit of sobriety.

“I miss my brother. I always do, but - there was this guy at the bar being gross and he called me the nickname Will always called me and I just…” you trail off.

“I’m so sorry,” Laura says.

You shrug and say, “It’s whatever.”

“It’s not, Carm. I know you like to act like you’re tough as nails but it’s okay to be upset. It’s also okay to accept help when it’s offered, which you did tonight!”

“Silver linings, huh?”

“Silver linings.”

/

Shortly thereafter, you and Laura retire to the loft and you head straight for the couch, opting not to even bother changing into sleep shorts. You let yourself fall onto the couch and get situated on your side, back to the back of the couch. Your body feels heavy with grief and alcohol and exhaustion and you’re just dozing off when you feel a dip in the couch near your feet. 

You open your eyes and Laura’s there, looking down on you.

“You okay to sleep now?” You nod and she continues, “Okay, just, y’know, come get me if you need anything. There’s a glass of water if you need it.”

“Thanks, Laura.”

She smiles and you think her cheeks redden a bit. Then she pushes herself to her feet and retrieves a blanket from the wicker basket beside the couch. She lays it over you and fusses until she’s content that you’re comfortable. 

“Thanks for letting your guard down tonight. You’re safe with me,” Laura says, and you drift off into a peaceful rest.

**Author's Note:**

> come chat about HMT!verse at good-and-safe on tumblr my dudes


End file.
